Next Generation: The Deepening Darkness
by ArielSprite
Summary: They're back! Al, Scorpius and Eliza have spent eight weeks apart and now they're ready for another year at Hogwarts. Al's relationship with his family worsens when godbrother Teddy shows up. Scorpius fears that he's going mad when he begins to dream of a strange woman while Eliza is slowly being enchanted by the evil Rosaline. They might be older, but this year will be as crazy!


**Well, after finishing my first ever novel length story last month and spending hours working out what to write for the sequel, I have finally come up with something. I hope you all enjoy it.**

Clarissa Marianne Inverness-Felpps was the sort of woman that nobody said no to. Even before she had married a very rich and very powerful man, she had gotten exactly what she wanted, no matter what. And now, what she wanted was one Matthias Leytii.

She had been living in the enormous Indian mansion for almost three years and had been ignored by her husband for twice as long when the handsome archaeologist had arrived next door. One of the maids had been more useless than normal, and when Clarissa had asked (demanded really, though she would never admit it) what was wrong, the girl had shown her the view of the new neighbour's rather lovely backside as he unpacked boxes.

Almost immediately an idea had come to mind and it hadn't taken her long to put it in place. Her husband had left early that morning and she had dressed to impress in her skimpiest summer dress, with her hair done perfectly and all her semi-casual jewellery on. She was going to catch herself a handsome archaeologist, and she was going to do it in style.

There was music playing at the archaeologist's house when Clarissa arrived. It was some sort of strange German sounding rock music, and while Clarissa didn't particularly like it, she figured that everyone had their quirks, and if it meant that she could get into the cute archaeologist's pants, then she would gladly put up with this one.

The doorbell rang for what seemed like hours and then, the music stopped. Clarissa heard someone coming to the door and pasted a smile on her face when it did open. A man, _the _man, was stood there in jeans and a clingy t-shirt. He ran a hand through his curly brown hair and a smile appeared on his face. Clarissa's heart stopped as she took in his charming smile, his sparkling brown eyes and his half-day beard.

"Hi," he said, extending a tanned brown hand. "I'm Matt Leytii, can I help you?" Clarissa was frozen for a moment, just staring at him and then she remembered herself.

"Of course! Sorry, I just came over to say hello. I'm Clarissa Felpps, I, er live next door. I saw you moving in and I thought that I would come to offer my assistance with… anything." Clarissa grasped his hand briefly and then let go.

"That's very kind of you," Matt said, nodding. "But I'm actually heading out in a moment. First day at work and all that. You don't mind do you? I've really got to run."

"No, no, I wouldn't want to stand in your way at work," Clarissa said, a little disgruntled at her plan failing miserably.

"Thanks," Matt said, winking at her. He stepped back into his house and grabbed a bag and coat before stepping out of the house and shutting the door. "I tell you what, if you're not doing anything tonight, why don't you and your husband come over for dinner. I promise I won't play any more German rock music." Clarissa laughed. Matt was funny. He was also astute. It seemed as if she had forgotten to take off her wedding ring, and he had noticed.

That night Clarissa arrived at his house and informed him that her husband was still working. Matt had flashed her a grin and said that it was no problem. He served up a frankly amazing dish of the best spaghetti carbonara with smoked salmon that Clarissa had ever tasted and offered some truly exceptional conversation. That was the night that a tiny part of Clarissa Inverness-Felpps fell in love for the second time.

Over the next month Clarissa tried to get closer to the handsome archaeologist. It didn't work very well as Matt seemed oblivious to all her affections for him, but she carried on nevertheless. Then, one day, while she was out at the market with him, the pair was approached by an old woman. She was a native of Indian, with dark brown skin that had been touched by the sun every day for many years. She was dressed in well-worn rags, but in her hands was an old velvet box. Matt converses with the woman in her native tongue and Clarissa can't help but be amazed at this extraordinary man and all of his abilities. By the end of their conversation, the woman presses the velvet box into his hands and though he tries to refuse, she doesn't take no for an answer. As they return back to their houses, he opens the box and shows Clarissa the pink quartz headdress inside. It is quite unlike anything that Clarissa had ever seen before, and she declared it as beautiful. He agrees with her, and says that he shall give it as a birthday present to someone very important to him. Though she doesn't know how he knows that her birthday is coming up, Clarissa is sure that it is for her. When her birthday arrives and no gift from him comes, she is devastated but does not show him.

She works on him until June ends, desperately wanting him to be hers, needing it so much that it begins to consume her. Then he says that he's going back to the UK and she curls up in her room to cry. He doesn't pack up his house though, and when she asks about it he laughs. Matt is only returning to the UK for a week to see his family, and then he'll be back. She cannot wait for it and is constantly on edge until the day that his Bentley pulls up outside his house and he steps out, laughing at something. Clarissa is excited up until the moment that the back doors of the car open and two people step out. One was a boy that looked so similar to Matt that he could only be his son, and the other was a girl that simply must be his daughter, because there was no mistaking the golden eyes that the boy and girl shared.

Instead of doing what she had when she thought that he was leaving, she had gone out and greeted him again, allowed herself to be introduced to the two children (they were his) and while Matt was dragging one of his daughter's three suitcases into the house, the girl, who is called Eliza, gives her a knowing look that is full of contempt and disgust.

As the weeks dragged on, Clarissa saw less and less of Matt; he is too busy with his children. Eliza and her brother, Alex, spent their days at the archaeological site where Matt is working or in the markets. Shopping seemed to be a favourite pastime of the youngest Leytii, and Clarissa often saw her conversing with the vendors in their native language, her head thrown back in laughter. Whenever Clarissa saw the girl, she was dressed in modern Indian garb, and had flowing brown curls to hide the gold of her earrings. She was also constantly followed by a group of Indian street rats whom she brought food to every day and read to.

Clarissa was not an idiot. She knew that Eliza didn't like her from the moment that they met, and the teenager swiftly proved it by playing a game that Clarissa herself was an expert at. And for the first time, she lost. Every time Eliza saw Clarissa she would mention things. Things that she _knew _would upset the older woman. Things about Matt, about his ex-girlfriends, about Eliza's own mother. And they drove her to tears. Eliza Leytii was a clever girl, and she knew what she was doing.

Clarissa was not an idiot. She knew that she had lost the man that she loved long before he had even set foot in the house next door to hers. Matthias Leytii, the handsome archaeologist who had moved in next door to her in the middle of March, had never been hers, and never would be. Not many people said no to Clarissa Marianne Inverness-Felpps, and so she would just have to find another person who would not say no to her. She was certain that it wouldn't be too difficult. Clarissa was not an idiot by any standards.

* * *

In her twelve years, four months and three days of life, Eliza Leytii had seen many a thing. Something that came up a lot was women flirting with her father. As a younger girl, Eliza had once dreamed about having a mother to care for her. She had wanted someone who loved her father and who would do all the things that a mother was supposed to. Then, when her father began dating again, thanks to her encouragement, she had realised that these women; the ones who found her father attractive and interesting, were actually very boring or vacuous and had no interest in her whatsoever. There had been many women whom she and Alex had had to scare off over the years, and when she had arrived in India almost two months previously, she had no doubt that Clarissa Inverness-Felpps was going to one of them. From the moment that she had arrived there and seen the older woman with her dyed blonde hair and bright red lipstick, she had known that he father had a potential suitor. And that just wouldn't do.

Anyone who said that Eliza was not a true Slytherin was an idiot. She could play games with people just as well as she could breathe. Some might have said that it was a bad thing, but it was simply natural to her, and she used it to her full advantage when confronted by women like Clarissa.

Every time she saw Clarissa, she smiled and was polite. On occasion she invited the woman to come out with her to the markets and had even bought the woman some cheap but expensive looking bangles that she hoped turned the woman's wrists green. Each time she stopped for a chat or took her shopping, she mentioned little things, testing the water to see what would upset and wind up the diplomat's wife the most. After about a week she had discovered all she needed to know and began slipping it into conversation whenever she could. It didn't take her very long to get rid of the woman for good, which meant that Eliza could enjoy the rest of her holiday with her family in peace.

India did her a world of good. The young brunette, with her sparkling golden eyes, was used to taking in the real parts of each country. She knew how to see the things that were just for tourists and which things were an insight into the culture and country that she was in. On her very first morning, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, she had dragged her older brother to the local market, where she proceeded to buy clothes, food and jewellery. Despite the stereotype that Eliza loathed and did her best to demerit, she could actually cook rather well, particularly with fresh ingredients. She had discovered her love for cooking at the age of seven when she had been living in China and had spent her days playing in the slums with other children. The mothers with their children and limited resources had taught her how to cook actual Chinese food and since then she had been very interested in cooking. People often assumed that because she enjoyed it, she was the sort of girl who would end up in the kitchen, and many had suggested that she stay there. Most of those people had been given harsh looks and had often been subjected to all sorts of pranks, courtesy of both Leytii siblings. Since then, Eliza had informed people that she could not cook, and no one had asked her to. It was lazy, and a lie, but Eliza had never found the will to be at all bothered.

Poverty was something that Eliza had witnessed in many places. The Chinese slums where she had learned to cook had taught her many a thing about the lives of others in countries that weren't as rich as England and Germany. Her father had shown her how she and those worse off than her could co-exist and she had spent years learning that. She had seen the divide between the rich and poor at Hogwarts. Compared to her friends she was as poor as a church mouse. Both Scorpius and Al were loaded, with galleons pouring from their ears whenever they needed or wanted something. Equally, Eliza knew that her grandparents were also rich as Lazarus, but her father had long been living off of what he made, unwilling to rely on his parents for anything much. Of course, Grandmother and Grandfather liked to spoil Alex and Eliza, with gifts and clothes as often as possible, and Uncle Simeon, who was also wealthy and powerful, gave her jewellery for her birthday every year. The plane tickets for all the trips that Eliza had been on in her life were surely very expensive, and Eliza knew that her lifestyle, with all the trips abroad to see her grandparents and to be with her father at any point round the year, was not the easiest to afford. She had seen poverty up close, and knew how to deal with both lives. It didn't make it any easier to see those suffering however. Eliza knew that she was not the kindest or most caring of people. She was a Slytherin and was in it for herself and the people that she loved most, but she still cared about the world that she lived in. Her father and brother's influence had not been enough to counter her selfish nature entirely, but she was still able to care, and so, every day that she was in India, she had visited the slums and the people who had needed help most. She bought them food and clothes and ran for medical help when they needed it.

One day, not long before she left for the UK again, Eliza entered the home of an elderly woman whom she visited regularly. The woman, Lumbika, had prepared a steaming vat of Masala Chai which Eliza sipped gratefully, enjoying the sweet and smokey taste, when Lumbika had shuffled to her bed and pulled something from under her pillow. Eliza looked at her curiously, particularly when she handed the box to her.

"Open," Lumbika ordered in terrible English. "You open casket."

"Casket?" Eliza asked. "You mean box?" What she had been handed could never be a casket. It was a box; probably made of wood and covered in a layer of worn red velvet.

"Yahma, yahma," Lumbika nodded, speaking in a language that even Eliza didn't understand.

Eliza opened the box carefully, and her mouth dropped open at the object inside. It was a music box. One in the shape of a domed ballroom with a golden ceiling and thin golden columns. The dance floor held dozens of dancers, ladies in fine dresses and men in top hats and tails, with tiny musicians on the fringes, their instruments in hand. Eliza marvelled at how much detail had been put into the decorations, because every last hair was in place.

"Takawiri," Lumbika said, making a twisting motion with her hands. Eliza looked down at the ballroom and twisted the base. It clicked, and a tinkling noise started up. The dancers on the ballroom jumped to life and began to dance. Eliza stared at it in amazement as the couples on the dance floor revolved around it, dancing until the song ended.

"It's beautiful," she murmured.

"Yours," Lumbika said, pointing to her. Eliza didn't know why Lumbika was now only speaking to her in English as before they had only spoken in Hindi, but she allowed the woman whatever she wanted.

"Oh, no," she replied, attempting to press the music box back into Lumbika's hands. It was made with gold and must have been worth a fortune. Lumbika could afford to feed her family for years on the money that she could get for the music box. "It's yours. Not mine."

"No, no!" Lumbika practically shouted. "You, you destiny. It belong you." Her eyes had gone wild and fear coursed through Eliza. She didn't know what was wrong with Lumbika but it was serious, and it had something to do with the music box. Eliza took the music box and shoved it in her bag, now slightly weary about Lumbika, made her excuses and left. Alex was chatting with a market vendor not far away, and looked up in surprise as Eliza approached.

"Lumbika alright?" he asked. Eliza nodded.

"Yes, but she had work to do with her grandchildren and so I left." Alex nodded, understanding this, and said goodbye to the vendor before he and Eliza made the walk home to the villa that their father was renting.

That night, as Eliza slept, the ballroom music player sat in its box, in her bag. Had she not been so taken in with the spell that the music worked upon her, she might have noticed the precise look of the couple dancing in the middle. The woman dancing in the centre of the room was quite lovely. She had tanned skin, darker than most of the people there, and was dressed in a pure gold gown with a matching crown in her dark curls. Jewellery glittered at her throat and wrists, and there were even golden studs in the woman's delicate ears. Her partner was a man of no consequence, but his gaze was important. His blue eyes were focused on the woman's eyes. Her golden eyes.

* * *

Lumbika Kapoor had lived in the slums her whole life. She had been born there, grew up there, went to school there, fell in love there and raised a family there. Her entire existence had been one where she had to fight to live, until the woman came. She was a white woman, rich and pretty, and she had given Lumbika money and medicine. All she wanted in return was for Lumbika to set up the trap for the girl, and so she had.

It had taken months for The Woman to give her the go ahead for the trap, but then, all of a sudden, when Lumbika had almost forgotten about it, The Woman had warned her that the target was in the city and that it was time for her to set things into action. At first Lumbika had cared. She hadn't know that The Woman wanted a little girl dead, for that was all Eliza Leytii was, a girl. Still, she had a job to do. If she didn't do it then The Woman would kill her, her family and everyone she had spoken to in her life. She had allowed the girl to visit her regularly, to bring her food and clothes and books and medicine, she allowed her to get to know Lumbika. She wasn't stupid, she knew that the girl would be suspicious if she simply gave her something of that magnificence straight away and so she allowed time to pass. As she did, she began to regret what she had agreed to. Eliza was a lovely girl, a bit odd perhaps, but she genuinely cared for the people living in the slums, unlike The Woman. But she had a job to do, and so she had done it. She gave the girl the music box and allowed her to leave, all the while wishing that she was not doing the wrong thing.

That night, while her family was sleeping, Lumbika sat up. There was a knock at her door, and a lovely blonde woman entered the one room house. It was her; The Woman.

"Have you completed the task?" The Woman asked, tossing back her honey blonde hair and steely blue eyes. Lumbika nodded. "The girl has the music box?" She nodded once more and the woman smiled, satisfied. "Excellent. You have done well, Lumbika. Perhaps I will have more uses for you in the future."

"I want no part in this," Lumbika stammered. "That girl, she not deserve this. I not want any more task."

The Woman sighed a heavy sigh. She turned round, her long, short-sleeved blue gown brushing against the floor much like her cloak, even though it's far too hot in India to be wears such an item. Lumbika may not be well educated, but even she knows that The Woman has magic, and that that is why she wears the cloak. The eyes of both women met and The Woman shook her head.

"That is a terrible shame Lumbika. I had such high hopes for you. But if you aren't willing to continue helping, then I simply have to get rid of you."

She stepped forward, stretching out a hand to grasp Lumbika's chin. A rippling sensation washed through Lumbika, from her toes to the roots of her hair and it poured from her open mouth into The Woman's form. After a moment, The Woman let go and Lumbika fell to the floor, dead. The Woman, whose real name was Rosaline, dusted off her hands and left the room with a single, disparaging look around the place that Lumbika had called home.

The streets that she travelled through were empty. It was an easy journey and when she finally arrived, nobody had even attempted to stop her. The hill on which she stood gave her a nice view of the city that she had just left and of the two people whom she was meeting. One was broad shouldered and muscular while the other had the waifish delicacy of a young woman.

"Has the girl got the music box?" the man asked in his deep, rumbling voice. Rosaline nodded.

"Indeed. I had to kill Lumbika though. The stupid woman actually regretted her decision to curse the girl. She had to be got rid of."

"And what now? The girl will not give us entrance to Hogwarts," the woman said. "What is your plan, Rosaline?"

"My plan is not of your concern," Rosaline spat. "I am in charge. I shall make the decisions here!"

"She is simply concerned," the man tried to placate her. "We trust you completely."

"Good," Rosaline replied, her anger quenched. "They do not realise it now, but I will destroy them. Albus Potter, Scorpius Malfoy, Eliza Leytii!" She spat the names as if they were a curse. "I shall kill them and Hogwarts shall fall!"


End file.
